Father's Arms
by Lintelomiel
Summary: When a terrified Legolas confesses his greatest fear, Thranduil consoles him as only a father can. Father/son fluff.


**Title:** Father's Arms  
**Author:** Laurelin  
**Rating:** G  
**Characters:** Thranduil, Legolas  
**Notes:** father-son fluff, my favorite kind. Dedicated to Minuial_Nuwing

**Summary:** When a terrified Legolas confesses his greatest fear, Thranduil consoles him as only a father can.

Legolas had always loved to watch his father's riders mustering in the courtyard before a hunt. Like any little boy, he was fascinated by the excitement of it, the snorting and neighing of the horses, the colorful banners streaming in the wind, the men laughing and joking with each other. But what his young heart loved more than anything was the sight of Thranduil astride his destrier, for in his eyes his father was the best rider of them all, and nothing made him prouder than to watch the king riding off at the head of the column, the sunlight reflecting in his plated armor.

So it was to everyone's surprise that one morning, as Thranduil and a guard of twenty men were about to depart for Esgaroth on the long lake, Legolas started to cry inconsolably and demanded that his father stay at home. When the queen tried to explain to him why this couldn't be, he pulled his hand out of hers and ran out into the crowded courtyard, ignoring his mother's shrill cry. Some of the more nervous horses startled and reared, pawing at the air with their front legs.

"Legolas!" Thranduil, who had heard the fear in his wife's voice, dismounted and pushed his way through the sea of horses' bodies while Legolas hurtled towards him. He caught his small son and lifted him in his arms, out of harm's way. "What are you doing, child, running away from your mother like that? You could have been trampled!"

"I don't care!" Legolas sobbed. His arms were clamped around his father's neck like an iron vise. "I don't want you to go, Ada, please don't go!"

"I must, Legolas. We talked about this last week, remember? I have a few things to take care of in Esgaroth. I won't be gone long."

"No!" the lad wailed. "I'm scared, Ada. I know what happened before, with the old king. He rode away one day and never came back. He died, and I don't want you to die!"

Thranduil frowned. "Who told you these things?"

Between sobs, Legolas named the playmate who had whispered the tale in his ear a few days earlier. "Is it true, Ada?"

"Yes, leafling, it is true that the previous king died. He was my father, your grandfather. But that was a very different time, a time of war. I am not riding to war today; the people of Esgaroth are friends to us, and I am going there to strengthen the bonds of peace between our realms. I will return, I promise you."

Legolas was starting to calm down a little, though his face was still wet with tears. "Then why are you wearing armor, and taking Fury?"

Thranduil touched the hilt of his longsword. "To discourage trouble, Legolas. To travel the roads of our world unarmed is folly, and Fury has always kept me safe. Orcs and spiders don't like her." He smiled and lowered his voice. "As for the armor… I wear it because it makes me look impressive. Don't you think?"

Legolas nodded, wanting to believe but not entirely reassured yet. "I don't want you to die, Ada."

Thranduil hugged his son closer. "I'm not going to, little one. When I return, I'll speak to that child's parents. The truth about your grandfather was something naneth and I wanted to save until you were a little older. It wasn't his information to share, and what saddens me most of all is that you have been so scared because of it. Promise me you will put those worries to rest now."

"I promise." Legolas sniffled and wiped at his eyes. "What was grandfather like? Why did they call him the Iron King?"

Thranduil smiled sadly. "I will answer all your questions about your grandfather, Legolas, but now is not the time. Some of what you hear may confuse you, but know that he would have loved you very much. He dreamt of having a grandson and you would have made him very proud."

"Really?" A tentative smile broke through on Legolas's face. "What do the people call you, Ada?"

Thranduil laughed. "I have no idea, and perhaps it is better that way. A king's reputation stands or falls by the songs and tales of minstrels, and by the whispered rumors exchanged over pints of foaming ale. I concern myself not with those things." He kissed his son's soft cheek. "Be brave now, I will only be gone a couple of days. When you are a little older and can ride your own horse, I'll let you come with me now and then. Would you like that?"

Legolas nodded eagerly, hope sparking in his eyes. "Will Nana let me go?"

"She will if I talk to her, but you have to grow a little taller and stronger and keep practising hard at riding and shooting. Now give me one of those good, strong hugs before I go. I'll miss you, leafling."

Legolas clung to his father's torso with all the strength his short arms and legs could summon. "Can I ride with you, Ada? Just a short distance, to the gate. Please, can I?"

Thranduil exchanged a glance with his wife, who sighed and nodded her consent. "To the gate," the king agreed, "and then you must go straight back home. Larion, my horse."

The king's squire led the large stallion closer and held the reins as Thranduil lifted his son onto the broad withers before mounting himself. At a sign from Thranduil, the herald blew departure and the company moved out, the royal standard whipping merrily in the breeze. The boy riding in front of his father felt like a king himself, his fears forgotten for now. He did not realize it yet, but the world was full of perils, and one day he would come to face them all. One day a dragon would descend upon Esgaroth and a great evil rise to power once again, and Legolas would be there to witness it all. But that day was far off still, and somewhere deep in his young and innocent heart Legolas knew that until he was ready for life's great adventure, father's arms would keep him safe.


End file.
